Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. Now, for the cage, my pretty canary-bird. “Yes, aren’t they?” said Ann Veronica, after a thoughtful pause.
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This video was uploaded to pornotravesti.net on 16-05-2024 09:44:41
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